Chapter Sixty-One
Archer
Mortius waited for me in the shadows. I felt his gaze raising the hairs on the back of my neck before I turned, sensed something in my curse respond to him. It was like a twinge of cold, of grief, of fear, all wrapped together.
Isoria frowned and turned to me, her expression telling me everything. She wanted to stay by my side while I confronted the god of death.
But I shook my head. “I need to do this alone,” I explained. Squeezing her hand, I caught the look of understanding that passed across her face and her gentle sigh of resignation, as I brushed past her.
“The king of Emberglade, wielding the magic of the land itself,” Mortius greeted me.
“I thought you were busy tending to the dead.” My gaze flitted about the space and the revenant corpses, trying not to choke on the stench and my own grief. So many had been lost today. So many had been dishonored in death by Vithenna’s cruelty and arrogance.
“I needed to speak with you, the one who so bravely bore emotional torment for his people.”
A thread of hope unspooled in me, one I was afraid to cling to. Clearing my throat, I asked, “Are you here to end that curse, then? You never were able to get that information for me.” My half-smile was so forced, even a child would have seen through it. The god of death certainly did.
But, despite the fact that Mortius’ form was nothing but shadows, I sensed sorrow in him. Maybe my curse let me feel what he felt, or maybe it was simply that a god’s pain was inherently felt by his creations. “I lied to you, young king.”
I blinked, frustration and anger building. “It wasn’t enough for the goddess of life to deceive and torment us all? You had to play your role as the trickster god and take from me too?”
There was a beat of silence, heavy with pain.
“I never placed a curse upon you. What you felt…your father fueled his strength on your negative emotions for years. It was why he was so adamant that you be the one to publicly slay phoenix shifters—not only to instill terror throughout the kingdom and help secure his reign, but also to feed on the emotions those actions created in you. That fear and sorrow was building in you already after a lifetime of violence and cruelty, of heavy expectations you never felt you could fulfill. You’ve always had a tender heart, and your father never understood that.
His troll blood craved power and bloodshed as a way of life.
He cared for you, in his own way, but the efforts to make you stronger only made you suffer. ”
My mind felt sluggish as I tried to work through what the god of death was saying. “So we…never made a bargain?”
“I knew your pain would strengthen me, just as it fueled your father, so I stayed closer to you. But no, I did not place a curse upon you. Every emotion you’ve felt…
those have all been your own. That is your battle to fight, I’m afraid.
One you may conquer or one you may endure all your life.
” There was so much sadness in Mortius’ voice, I struggled to reconcile this version of him with the version I’d met before, the one with the grating laughter and cruel taunts.
“So you cannot undo…this.” I swallowed thickly. Even thinking about it made my skin prickle with heat, with the sensation of insects crawling, with the horrible pulse of danger, danger, danger.
Before I could lose myself in those sensations and the panic, despite what I’d said earlier, Isoria was there.
Her palm was cool as she clasped my hand and threaded her fingers through mine.
It grounded me, reminded me that I wasn’t alone, even if she was too weakened to use her healing magic on me.
“I can’t undo it,” Mortius agreed softly, “but I think you’ve already found the one that will stay by your side and help you through it.”
“Why, Mortius?” Isoria asked, but something in her tender tone told me she already knew the answer. “Why tell Archer you were the one to curse him?” It felt like there was more to her question, things she left unspoken.
“Everyone sees death as the dreaded end,” the god murmured, his shadows already misting into something more transparent as he prepared to leave.
He would be busy for a long time yet, moving about the city and helping countless souls into the afterlife.
“But it is also a gentle embrace. A resting of weary limbs and heavy eyes. A laying down of burdens. It is peace and compassion, after the bitter cruelty of life.”
And then Mortius was gone, off to help more souls.
One Week Later
It took a full week for Lily to wake.
During that time, I’d spent endless hours organizing restoration and cleanup efforts throughout Rainsong.
Isoria, Brenton, Brook, and Scarlet, despite the constant risks from the prejudiced citizens who feared and hated phoenixes still, had worked tirelessly alongside other healers to assist with our countless wounded.
Sometimes, they took shifts checking on Lily, but since she was stable, her wounds having long since knit together, they were often needed elsewhere in one of the countless infirmaries that had been set up throughout Rainsong.
The general consensus from every healer was that Lily had sapped all her strength when wielding her magic, not to mention that the extensive healing magic poured into her had been taxing on her body. She needed time.
Owen stayed by Lily’s side in the castle infirmary constantly.
I temporarily assigned his responsibilities to Grey instead, recognizing the turmoil within my friend as something I’d felt on more than one occasion when worrying for Isoria.
I gave him space, not questioning him during this time about his feelings.
Maybe he didn’t fully understand them yet himself.
He needed to be near her, tending to her tirelessly.
The infirmary was a bustling place, far too crowded to spare a cot for him, so he slept in a pile of blankets on the floor so he wouldn’t have to leave Lily.
Today, though, something changed as the golden light of dawn filtered into the infirmary and Isoria slipped away from another patient she’d been tending to and stopped at my side.
I’d been a silent presence for Owen, just sitting in a chair beside him, hoping the few minutes I could spare with him before I’d need to tend to other endless duties would give him a bit of hope and strength.
At first, it was a difference in Lily’s breathing. Next she stirred the tiniest bit, her eyelids fluttering.
And then she opened her eyes.
“Owen?” she asked immediately, before she’d had a chance to look around, before she could have fully comprehended where she was.
He was on his feet in an instant, clasping her hand. “I’m here.”
Lily burst into tears.
Isoria and I shared a look, a quiet understanding passing between us.
Whether our friends were ready to admit it or not, there was clearly a connection there, and now that we had the relief of knowing Lily was awake, that she was going to be all right, it felt wrong to intrude on this time.
We’d let Owen and Lily figure things out on their own time, in as much privacy as they could be afforded in the busy infirmary.
“Do you have a moment?” I murmured as Isoria and I walked away from Lily’s cot.
Isoria’s eyes scanned the infirmary. “It’s been a week. Everyone we can save has been saved with our magic. Now it’s just a matter of letting their bodies rest and recover.” She shrugged. “So yes, I can spare a moment.” She offered me a gentle smile, one that I had a wicked urge to kiss.
But I refused to do that in the infirmary—I had enough self-control to wait until we reached the hallway.
Then I grasped her by the waist and pressed her against the wall.
I threaded my fingers through her hair as I breathed her in, swallowing her gasp, relishing the rush of emotions that flooded our bond until I couldn’t tell where my love and desire ended and hers began.
And here I thought you wanted to discuss something, she finally managed to say into my mind when we parted at long last, our chests heaving.
Sharing quarters with your brother and best friend has made it really difficult to do this. It’s driving me mad. I hesitated, catching my breath, cradling her closely. “But I do have something to talk to you about.”
She swallowed, searching my eyes as she sensed the way my emotions shifted. The nerves tangling in my stomach were familiar, but this time, I wouldn’t lose myself in the panic. Not when I was in the arms of the female I loved, the one whose heart was my home, my healing, my haven.
“Isoria,” I said softly, tucking a strand of black and violet hair behind her ear, “I want our engagement to be real. I want you…” My voice broke, and I forced a crooked smile through my flood of emotion.
“I want you. As my bride. As my queen. I want you to stand by my side through whatever the future holds, whatever new fate we make for ourselves.” Reaching into my jacket pocket, I pulled out the carved wooden case it held and popped it open, revealing a new ring.
“And if you’ll have me, I want to give you a true ring that you can show off to let the world know who you are. Royalty.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes. “Of course I’ll have you.
” She studied the ring, admired the sapphire, amethyst, and turquoise I had set within it for her, a reminder of her phoenix colors and my acceptance of who she was—all of who she was.
“But will your people have me? How could they ever accept a phoenix as their queen?” She cast a glance over her shoulder.
“Do you know how many times I’ve been called a demon?
The healers tolerate me because I’ve saved patients’ lives.
The patients tolerate me because I soothe their pain.
But anyone outside of here could be another Dell. ”
His name alone sent a bolt of anger shuddering through me, but because I only felt sorrow and horror from her, I took Isoria in my arms. She relaxed against me with a sigh.
“It won’t be easy,” I admitted. “But any enemy of yours would also be an enemy of mine. I’ll always stand with you.
” My chest tightened, a sense of dread warning me an endless abyss might be waiting for me on the other side of my next words.
But I spoke them anyway. “If you want to go home, I understand. No one else will know Everhaven’s location, I swear it. ”
She laughed. “Archer, you know I can’t go.”
“I’d find a god to break our bond again—without the price I paid last time.”
But Isoria shook her head. “It wouldn’t be home without you,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to my jaw.
The relief was instant, and I almost wept with it.
She gently pulled back, reaching for the ring I’d offered. “I might want to bake and cuddle Onyx and read my days away in your library,” she said with a grin, “but that doesn’t mean I want easy. I want you too.”
“Thank Umbryon,” I breathed, gently taking her hand so I could be the one to slide the ring on her finger. “It’s you and me, Feathers.”